


Whispers of the Dead

by Ziffy



Category: Warframe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-05
Updated: 2020-02-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:22:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22570138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ziffy/pseuds/Ziffy
Summary: Not everyone slept after the Old War, some sought peaceful lives. But the past tends to come back, sometimes in unexpected ways.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 15





	Whispers of the Dead

Another person died today. I can hear the villagers wailing all the way from my forest, so whoever it was this time must have been a very prominent figure. I hope it wasn’t the chief, she’s one of the few people that will come talk to me on occasion. There are a few others, mostly curious children, that will come say hello, but they all look at me with a mixture of awe and fear. The chief, on the other hand, is very old and looks on me as a friend. I very rarely go to visit the village, mostly because I think I make them uncomfortable. Instead, I just stay up on my hill, tending to the grove of fruit trees that make up my section of the world.

Despite this, I’m never lonely. After all, by my very nature I can speak to the dead. Whenever someone dies I call upon their soul and talk with them. Sometimes, they wish to be sent on to the next life right away, so I usher them through the gates that I cannot cross and indeed can only barely sense. Other people want to chat for a while, sometimes helping me with the trees. 

But there are also those, particularly the young, that want to return to their real life, to speak with those they knew, or something like that. But I cannot oblige them with these requests. People always act poorly when the lines of death are smudged, and very little good can come of it. As such, I make sure to keep the living and the dead apart, so that peace can be maintained.

Ah, but I suppose I forgot to mention how I come across these souls. For the longest time, in fact since the last echoes of the War so very long ago, I have been the gravekeeper of this village. Every time a villager dies, they bring the body to me. I choose a tree and with great reverence bury their body at its base, so their life may help to provide for those still living. The people will often watch me as I work murmuring prayers or continuing to cry. Only after the job is done and the villagers have left will I summon their spirits.

Today is another one of those sorrowful days, though, and I must prepare. I have already chosen which tree I am going to bury them under, so I quickly start digging. You need to be careful not to damage the large roots too badly while digging so near to them, but my centuries of practice have made it second nature. 

With the hole dug, I wander to the edge of the forest and wait for the funeral procession. Since this person was so well known, the rites are going to take a very long time. Everyone will pay their respects, after which the body will be lifted on a glorified stretcher and slowly marched to me. I will greet them at the edge of the woods, and bow deeply to mark the solemnity of the occasion, then turn and lead them to the burial site.

Ah, here they come. I think that the entire village very well might be in the procession; it very well could be the chief. My heart aches at the prospect. As much help as speaking to the dead can be for boredom, nothing can replace a living friend’s touch. But as they approach, I can see the wizened lady just behind the young men carrying the body. I see. The one who died today was the storyteller. He always brought so much life into the village, even on the dreariest winter nights. Many of the spirits I spoke with mentioned the man, but he never came to see me. I wonder why that is? Surely he might have thought I could tell some stories of my own? Well, I can’t, but maybe it crossed his mind.

They’ve reached the edge of my forest. I bow in front of them when some pretty wildflowers catch my eye. I pluck a few and place them near the body’s head. One of the pallbearers has come to see me before, but I can see the other three tense up in fear. I’m a little hurt by this, but centuries of the same treatment has dulled that particular pain.

I motion for them to follow and walk to the appointed site.I climb into the hole and they lower the body to me. I arrange the arms to have his hands clasped over his stomach, and further adjust the body to make it appear in a peaceful rest. At this point some people make short speeches, and the chief tosses in a few ceremonial handfuls of dirt.  _ Ashes to ashes, dust to dust _ .

When the speeches are done, I cover the body with roots that I nudged to the side, then climb out and begin shovelling in the dirt. The attendees burst into tears, but I continued my task. Once filled, I kneel before the grave and bow my head. This is mostly for the villagers’ benefit, given that my actual moment of reverence and prayer for his soul will happen later.

Slowly, the people disperse. It’s nearly nighttime by the time they have all left, so I perform my little magic under the beautifully painted sky. A form coalesces, and they look up as I do at the reds, oranges, pinks, and yellows of the clouds above. Neither of us break the silence until the last rays of sunlight have faded.

“Well, you must be the gravekeeper I’ve heard about,” the storyteller says, still looking at the sky.

I simply nod as a response.

“Given that I’m here, that must mean the rumors that you speak to the dead are true, though none of us could have imagined to just what extent the truth went!” To my surprise, the man followed that with a deep, resonant laugh.

I turn to face him. “Yes, I can speak to the dead, though you surely understand why I don’t reveal this to the living.”

The storyteller nods. “I know many tales of people that went chasing after shades. It never ends well, so I understand. Though tell me, what do you want from me now that you’ve captured my soul?”

I stay silent for a few moments before responding. “I don’t really want anything from you, and certainly nothing you wouldn’t want to give. If you wish to sit here and talk with me, I would be very happy. If you wanted to help me prune the fruit trees, I would gladly accept the help. But if you wish to move on, I can show you the path, though you’ll be on your own once I point the way. I do not know what lies at the end of that road either, so no use asking.” I notice the storyteller deflates a bit at that last part. 

“Do people usually stay to talk with you?”

“I get all kinds, really. The young ones are always troublesome, but I generally help them see the gravity of the situation. Lately I haven’t had anyone, however. I helped usher the last one on nearly a month ago, and you’re the first to die since then.”

The man thinks for a while. “You know, I think I’ll stay with you awhile. After all, I’m sure you have some fascinating stories. How long have you lived?”

“A long, long time. I have been alive since before the fall of the Orokin.”

His jaw drops and he stands there, dumbfounded. “You must tell me some of what happened back then! That was so long ago, much of what we know is reduced to myth!”

I sit down at the base of a tree, listening to the wind whispering through its branches. “I’ll try to remember some for you, but don’t be surprised if my memory fails me a bit. For now, though, let’s rest and admire the stars.”

“But it’s a cloudy night… ah, you need sleep. Very well. Rest easy, ancient one.”

~~~~~

Explosions and screams fill the air. The enemy has broken the front lines, and they’re coming closer to our location. I wait, my partner’s power flowing through my body. We itch to go gather the souls to bolster our strength, but it’s too risky. The Dax leading our unit raises his rifle, preparing for the battle to come.    
All too quickly, the enemy is on us. Their bizarre shapes fly through the air and crawl on the ground, rushing at us. Our leader gives a shout, and the chaos begins. We start using our rifle, but the enemy rushes up too quickly, so we take out our twin skana, the worn, jagged edges gleaming in the light. We manage to kill a few of the sentients before the first one of ours falls. We reach out, calling them back to the fight.

We see the gleam of other warframes joining the battle, but a red mist goes up too. The softer-bodied members of our force are being killed far too quickly. We reach further bringing all of them back, over and over. After a point, we can’t focus on fighting ourselves anymore. All our energy is going to sustaining our legion of shadows.

Bit by bit, the tides turn. The sentient force is dwindling; the remaining few trying to flee. The other ‘frames go after them, but we collapse. One by one, the shadows lose their shape, and we point at the path they must travel. They thank us, many of them with tears in their eyes. They may have died, but they got to fight twice, all so innocents may live on. 

_ We did well, I think, _ my partner whispers to me.

_ I hope so, _ I respond.

I feel them withdraw their mind and I let the exhaustion wash over me.

~~~~~

The gentle warmth of the sun wakes me. Slowly I sit up, wandering through the day’s plan in my mind. There are some ivy sprouts near the eastern trees. I’ll have to uproot them before they can deal damage to my grove. The summer fruits have all been harvested, so I need to check on the autumn trees to make sure they are all healthy.

“Thinking hard there? Glad to see you’re finally up.”

Yikes, I forgot I had company. I’ll have to add something to the daily routine, then. I must teach the storyteller the proper care for the fruit trees, as well as how to know which plants are dangerous weeds and which are safe.

“Yeah, I’m just running through what needs to be done today,” I reply belatedly.

“Oh? Is there really that much that needs to be done with an orchard?” They look at me quizzically.

“Well, just look at how large it is, for one. The bearing trees cover this entire hill, and even go down into the valley behind it. I need to inspect the trees somewhat regularly to check for disease, and of course there are the harvest times.”

The storyteller nods. “I guess I still have a lot to learn, then. Show me the way, ancient one!”

I nod. “I will, but first, tell me your name. I try to learn everyone’s name while they’re with me, even though I’m doomed to forget it sooner or later.”

“Having lived so long, I’d be surprised if you  _ could _ remember everyone. Well, my name is M’Baat. Though what should I call you?”

Many people have asked me that question, and it always hurts a little bit to hear. “Ah, you see, I don’t really have my own name, as such. I am a nekros, one of many.” I glance down at my forearm to see the faint reminder that was branded there. “I was experiment number 94, successful test number 6 of my line.”

I can see M’Baat’s mind racing, full of questions but unsure of where to begin. “So there are more of you, then?”

“I… don’t really know. After the War, I couldn’t really say how many of us survived. I think that I’m the oldest of my make still around, but after the Tenno left us, many of my fellows either fell into a deep sleep or went berserk.”

His eyes lit up at the mention of the children from that fateful ship. “The Tenno were real? Did they actually cause the collapse of the Orokin Empire?”

“Yes to both of your questions.”

“Then where are they now?” 

I sighed deeply. “I don’t know. One day they just… disappeared. I cast out my mind time and again trying to find my partner, but they had all gone.”

“Partner?”

I described to him the relation between warframes and the Tenno, and how our powers were magnified by them, and how they could puppet the warframes that had their minds destroyed by the transformation. I told him of the marvellous exploits of the partnership against the Sentients, and I told him of how many we lost. I told him also of how the end of an era came about, blood staining the white and gold floors of their buildings. The more I told him, the more I could see his head spinning.

“There’s so much history to be learned from you… Why do you not tell the villagers any of this?”

“You see, they can’t understand me because I don’t truly have a voice. We can converse because more than anything else you are basically an extension of my will. Even you cannot speak with them; death has silenced your voice with them forever.”

He sat back to contemplate. “It’s really quite remarkable…” he muttered.

We sat in silence for nearly half an hour while he mulled over everything I had said. A bird landed near me, so I gently reached out to it. Most of the birds here know me, though they’re still skittish by nature, as they should be. It hopped up on my hand, settling down against the gentle warmth of my sun-soaked skin.

M’Baat notices and smiles. “It’s hard to believe you were an instrument of war, even the animals are comfortable around you.”

“I worked a long time to build this relationship. I’ve saved many pieces of fruit for them, given them little shiny things that I find occasionally, and sometimes defend them from nastier ground critters. Even the carnivores I treat well, though. I simply take them several miles away and release them again.”

He nods approvingly. We sit and watch the bird preen itself until it takes off and leaves. I get up, joints creaking. “Well, now that half the day is gone, it’s time to get at least a little work in.”

M’Baat stands as well. “Excellent. Tell me, am I able to eat any more? Can I still taste things?” 

I shake my head. “Sadly, that ability also died when you did. If you help me in the orchard it will simply be for the benefit of those living you left behind.”

He smiles sadly. “As they say, the path to happiness is to help others.”

“If you stay with me long enough, I’ll let you see their joy at the fall harvest. There’s nothing quite so pure as the faces of those that have eaten their fill.”

“That sounds lovely, Nekros. I think I’d like to move on after I see that.”

This surprised me. “You’ve already decided?”

M’Baat nods solemnly. “It would be silly of me to cling to life forever. I just want to help them a bit more, then see the smiling faces of my fellows one last time, and I’ll be satisfied.”

“You’re a good man, M’Baat.”

~~~~

The war against the sentients finally is over. So many Dax soldiers died, and so many of the other Aware frames died that we feel broken. There was so much destruction, so much death, we aren’t really sure if we really won.

We’ve been burying the dead for some time now. Bits of sentient material lie interspersed with the limbs of our own, so we sift through the pieces to claim what we care about. Some battlefields require mass graves, as none of the pieces can be identified and put together into a whole body. Precious few places of combat have given us mostly intact bodies. But we continue on, warframe beside Dax, trying our best to honor the fallen.

My partner now works alongside me, not through me. The children of the void were the only ones to have sustained no losses, but of course that is because they weren’t really there. They worked through us, and we died in their place. Looking at their soft, weak bodies, however, we didn’t feel angry. After all, they made us far more powerful than we could have been on our own, and they made it so even the failures could fight.

And yet, they shared our pain. Whenever we were injured, they could feel it. If we were killed, they would sometimes scream in agony. But once they recovered, they were given a new tool, and put back to work. I do not know if I envy them. If I were to be killed, I would only have to die once. But those children, I cannot even begin to imagine how many deaths they’ve experienced.

After the burial of our fellows, we gather the pieces of sentient left strewn across the battlefield. Carefully, perhaps more out of reservation than actual threat, we carry them to a special facility. There we see a large furnace that melts down the fragments, ensuring that nothing is left alive. Just to make sure no sentient resistances pop up, a couple of the void children channel their energy through special windows to wash the pieces with their magic.

I shudder to think just how many more battlefields we need to clean, how many more people we need to bury. But that needs to be put on hold for now. A summons has gone out to all of the warriors, and all of the void children. They are to go and see the Orokin, hidden away in their gilded towers. I do not know what for, but a sense of dread washes over me. 

My partner asks me to come to the tower and wait. Several of the other frames have received similar requests.

My unease deepens.

~~~~

The fall harvest has come and I've been quite busy gathering the fruits and taking them to the village. It's one of the few times that I will go there, but I am greeted with cheer since I bear such wonderful gifts. Children run around with sticky fingers, laughing with excitement while the older ones calmly peel and pit the more intricate produce. Even they cannot resist cracking a smile at the delivery. 

My two shades help me with the gathering, but they are not allowed into the town. To make sure they don't miss anything, I share my eyes with them since they're basically extensions of myself. I’ve found it very helpful over the years, as it lets my charges see their families again before they have to go.

Oh, I suppose I forgot to tell you about the other soul I gathered. A number of children were playing in the river several weeks ago, when one of them hit her head on a rock and drowned. The poor thing was only barely ten, far too young to have deserved to meet me. Her mother was incredibly distraught, and spent nearly three days at the gravesite. I discovered she had collapsed, and took her back to the village to get her help. After all, I didn't want to perform another funeral again so quickly. 

I assembled a basket just for the mother, and I'm taking it to her now. When she opened the door for me, I could see her expression darken from the memories I brought back. After I gave her the basket, though, she warmed up to me. I could feel her child's sadness in the back of my mind, but she was happy too. Death results in a strange mix of emotions. 

My visit was brief, though, since I cannot communicate easily with the living. I gathered up the empty harvest baskets and returned to the orchard.

“Hey, mister Nekros?” the little shade said.

“Yes, Nita?”

“Thank you for letting me see mommy again. I think…” she trailed off. “I think I’m ready to move on. I can hear grammy calling me.”

This took me by surprise. To have made such a monumental decision so quickly was strangely mature for someone so young. I was also curious about the mention of hearing her grandmother. I remember burying her several years ago, and while I have seen people get called from beyond, it’s almost always been the children. I truly do not know why this is.

I knelt down beside her. “Are you sure? There’s so much beauty left in this world to experience.”

She nodded, smiling. “I know this world is pretty, but there’s a lot more stuff where grammy is. I’ll sometimes see flashes of it when you’re asleep. I really do think I’m ready.”

I gave her a hug, which she returned. I couldn’t detect a trace of sadness in her whole being anymore. She cried for several days after I collected her soul, but whatever she saw on the other side must truly be amazing. I wonder if I’ll ever get to see it. Can a guide for souls eventually walk down the same path?

“Very well. When the sun sets, I’ll show you the path. Before then, though, could you get the fruit from the very tops of the trees? I’m too heavy to do it myself.”

“Of course!” Nita said before practically running up the nearest trunk. I’m going to be sad to see her go, it’s always so refreshing to have young blood, despite the sadness that usually accompanies them.

M’Baat walked up behind me. “Ah, to be young again.”

“Indeed, though I don’t really age, I guess.”

He chuckled. “Surely, you were once a child, though?”

I stayed silent for a long time. “No,  _ I _ was never one. I came to be just as I am.”

He pondered for a while. “If I may be so bold, could you explain that as one of your last stories for me? The harvest is nearly over, so it’s nearly my time as well.”

“It’s not a pleasant story to end on, but if that’s what you wish, then I’ll grant it to you.”

As the sun began to dip below the horizon painting its beautiful colors across the landscape, we gathered at the highest point of the hill.

“You might have an even better idea of where you need to go than I do, but I’ll try to guide you anyways.” Nita nodded, a serious expression on her face. I lessened my hold on her, until the shadowy form completely disappeared. 

“All the trees look like they’re glowing,” her faint voice echoed.

I focused, reconnecting the links that my power severs in order to capture souls. In the deepest recesses of my consciousness, I caught a glimpse of a blindingly white path which was quickly followed by the most powerful feeling of peace, perhaps love. No matter how many times I do this that feeling never changes.

_ Thank you _ , comes the quiet voice.

I hear the briefest moment of what could be music, but maybe it’s just a feeling. It could have even been a trick of the light.

With that, my role as Nita’s guide is finished.

“She’s gone?” M’Baat asked.

I simply nod.

~~~

The first thing I ever became aware of was the pain. It was a fierce, burning sort of pain, one that hardly ever let up. Through the agony, though, I could tell that I wasn’t quite alone. When I would fade into consciousness, it was as if someone else was going out. Somewhere halfway, we could almost see each other, but we couldn’t really communicate. 

I didn’t really have a sense of time during those days. Any time I would fade out, I wasn’t sure I’d ever wake up again. And yet, one day, I came back, and all of the pain was gone. In its place was a soreness like you wouldn’t believe, but it wasn’t true pain. I relaxed for a while, eventually drifting off into a gentle sleep.

_ “Subject PWF-5998-094, it is time to test your abilities,” _ a loud voice blared over the speaker in the room.

I got up, confused. I felt a strange itching at the back of my mind, so I chased it. A strange feeling washed over me, and a shadowy silhouette appeared in front of me.

_ “Subject has demonstrated ability to summon shades, test deemed tentatively successful barring mental degradation.” _ Was there a hint of surprise in the voice this time?

I looked at the figure in front of me. It fluctuated for a while, eventually coming into focus. After looking at its hands and around the room, the figure spoke. “I guess this means I’ve died, then?”

I stepped back in shock. The thing can speak?

“What-what do you mean?” I asked. I didn’t really speak, though, I don’t think I have a throat. I just… communicated.

The shade sighed. “I’m not surprised. The Orokin have exploited all of us for so long, Why am I surprised that they took my life? I’m almost rooting for the sentients…”

“Who are you?”

They looked at me for a long time. “I suppose the better question is who I was. I once was you, but somehow you’ve killed me and taken my body. Though I can’t really say it’s mine any more, not after the changes they made. I can hardly stand to look at you, really.”

My thoughts were muddled with all of this new information. I was using someone else’s body? Then where did I come from?

The other person drifted to the opposite side of the room and sat facing away from me, mumbling.

We stayed away from each other for what seemed like forever. I watched as the shade got angrier, pacing back and forth, continuing to mumble. Eventually, they came back over to me, getting right in my face. “I want you to dismiss me.”

“What?”

The shade punched me in the face, hard. “Send me over to the other side so I can get out of this hellhole of a half life! I don’t have a body, and I can’t return to one any more, so what’s left for me? Just make it so I can leave this fucking lab!”

I nursed my face for a moment. Despite being translucent, that thing could hit hard. “I… don’t know how…” I said, looking down. 

“THEN FIGURE IT OUT,” they screamed, punching me, kicking me, and gouging at my face. I curled up in a ball on the floor, trying to fend off the attacks, but they kept coming. 

“Stop!” I yelled. I waited a few seconds before noticing that another blow didn’t come. The figure’s body was frozen in place, but their eyes burned with rage.

Eventually, whatever spell it was wore off, and the beating continued. I thought desperately about what to do, but I couldn’t figure anything out. 

The shade got one lucky kick in that twisted my head around, causing me to nearly black out. As I looked up at the shade, something inside me lashed out. I saw a flicker of a deep nothingness, so empty and isolated that I shuddered the rest of the day from that one tiny flash I saw. I sensed the shade get sucked into that nothingness, and heard as their scream was swallowed by it. The nothing was so complete after the soul went there that I couldn’t even assign it the color black, because that would be giving it something. It was, simply, loneliness.

I lay shaking on the floor for what seemed like an eternity before the voice spoke again.  _ “Subject, please proceed through the door so your training may commence.” _ I slowly obliged.

~~~

Winter came and went. I received a few souls during that time like I usually do. The cold makes life for them difficult, to the point I cannot remember a winter where I didn’t bury at least one person. But when the grass began to grow once more, I could hear laughter as the village once again stirred to life.

None of the souls I cared for this winter remained with me, so I had to begin the preparations myself. While I was examining the trees closest to the village, I heard a strange noise, one that I thought I had abandoned after the War. A ship was headed our way.

I tried to locate the source of the noise as a seed of dread wormed its way into me. When I found it, I was somehow more appalled than if it had been of Orokin make. The ship was brown and misshapen, odd bulges coming off it with seemingly no thought to aesthetics. 

I ran deep into the forest where I had buried the remnants of my past. I dug as fast as possible, hoping I wouldn’t be too late. I gathered up the three wrapped items, and started running towards the village. 

I unfurled the white and gold cloths that could never decay to reveal my weapons. I threw on my stiletto, the single pistol looking lonely without its mate, and secured my soma on my back. Finally, I unwrapped my scythe - a massive and unwieldy thing, but sharp enough to cleave through the sentients back then. It started as a joke among my crew, what with my special connection to death, but I ended up appreciating it. Ah, I remember now; my callsign back then was Harvest.

I ran towards the ship and was glad to see it hadn’t touched down yet. Most of the villagers were hiding away in their houses, but a few of the young men were standing curiously at the gate. I shooed them, hoping they would understand, but they were transfixed by the ship. I pushed at one of them and he started to turn, but a loud report cracked through the air. As it faded, one of the men fell, missing half his chest. 

After a brief hesitation the others started running while I turned to face the enemies. I haven’t fought in so long, but there are some things you will never forget. I greeted them with a spray of bullets, though I was actually surprised the thing still worked. The first lines of the enemy fell to me, their weird bubbly armor not standing a chance against my weapons. Using some of the energy I had stored up, I summoned their souls, forcing them to attack their still-living comrades. When my soma jammed, I tossed it aside, taking up my scythe. I tore through their ranks, continuing to harvest souls until I hit my limit. I pressed on, even as some of their shots hit me, causing me to bleed for the first time in a very long time. 

After slaying the last of the invaders I collapsed, one of my arms hanging useless at my side. I called some of the shades I still had to carry me back outside and to the village.

I could tell I was being watched, so I dispelled the specters before stepping out of the ship. With one hand, I used my scythe as a cane, hobbling down to meet my wide-eyed audience. They parted before me as I approached, looking at me with a mixture of wonder and fear. 

A short figure came towards me from the other side of the divided masses. The wizened old village chief reached out to embrace me. “Thank you for saving our village.”

I started to nod, but I shook my head, pointing toward the body still lying in the gate.

She looked at the corpse with eyes showing the pain of her many years. “One may have died, but it is thanks to you that the rest of us live.”

I slumped to the ground, exhausted. The chief noticed my wounds and called for the handful of people trained in some form of medicine. While they had never treated someone like me, and even though the bandages alone would have been enough, they took out all kinds of salves and ointments to help my recovery.

_ The people of this village truly are good,  _ I mused to myself as I drifted off.

~~

Even just seeing the Orokin tower made my blood boil, and I could tell that my partner felt much the same. They told me to wait while they went in. They were apparently going to be commended by the golden lords, but I felt that something very different was going to happen.

Several other ships were waiting, the other Aware warframes just as anxious as me.

Perhaps an hour later we received the call. Our Tenno had begun the attack. We swarmed into the tower, cutting down the Dax, some of which we fought with in the War. We didn’t have time to feel sorry about them, though, because we were about to topple an empire. 

We painted over their white and gold palace with deep crimson, continuing until not one of them was left alive. At that point most of the others left, but it was here that my partner and I began our work. 

For centuries, so many had been oppressed by the Orokin, and the Tenno were no different. They may have let Margulis care for the children, but they killed her, and were thrown back into torment with the war.

Because of this, my partner and I had a plan. I summoned my strength, amplified by their resonance with me. I called upon the souls of the Orokin and pinned them in place. I raised my scythe and cut into each one of them, slowly, excruciatingly. My partner followed behind, burning the shades with the sting of the void. We continued this, ignoring their screams, their pleading for mercy. Any time a shade was close to escaping my grasp, I brought it back. 

I do not know how long we tortured them, but after we had our fill, I opened a path to the Loneliness, and threw them all in. 

We had been molded into the image of our masters. We were monsters.

~~

Surprisingly, no other ships came to investigate the one that I destroyed. Part of me was glad of this, but another part of me was uneasy. Why did they come this way? What are their plans? How long will it be until they come back?

The answer that I had was who they were. I only barely recognized them, but these were Grineer. Somehow, the slaves of the Orokin were still around, and even more surprising, they were capable of large scale military action.

Aside from my worry, the villagers now look at me in a different light. None of them knew what I was before, but now they have a suspicion. I heard the word “Tenno” more than once after the incident, but only in whispered tones. I suppose they’re pretty close, but I can’t correct them.

I’m the guardian of the village now in many ways. I am here to protect them in life, should any more wish them harm, and when they eventually die I am here to guide their souls.

For the first time in centuries, perhaps ever, I feel like I have a home.

~

After our revenge on the Orokin the system was plunged into chaos. Without leadership, many of the people rioted whether or not they had approved of the golden lords. We suspected that there were other Orokin lurking in the system, but we didn’t know where they were, so we had to ignore them.

Some of the Tenno tried to stem the chaos, others simply watched as fires burned entire cities. Months of chaos raged.

At the height of all of it, my partner disappeared. I asked others if they knew where they had gone but the other frames reported the same thing. For some reason, the Tenno had disappeared.

We were scattered throughout the system, but with the limited communications we had left we discussed our plans. Most of them decided that they should sleep in the hopes that they would once again wake up to another presence in their minds. Others decided that they would store the Unaware warframes before joining them in slumber. After all, maybe someday they would be needed again as well. I was one who stored some frames, hauling out a handful of cryopods from the remnants of my ship. I laid the ones I had fond memories of to rest: an ember, a loki, a zephyr, and a nyx. I didn’t have room for the final one, an atlas, so I laid him next to the cryopods. Hopefully being made of rock would allow him to last even without. 

After finishing, I stared at their lifeless forms. Would they ever actually be woken up again? Wouldn’t it be better if I took one of their places, so I would be guaranteed to last?

I shook off those thoughts. These were my partners, even though their minds didn’t exist. I could never be so selfish.

My ship was only a few miles away from a small town. I set branches over the cryopods, followed by some living ivy. Hopefully, any intrepid explorer would see the landed ship and take that as the prize, not noticing the pods.

And so I left them, walking several miles to the south to see the village. I noticed a scraggly looking grove of fruit trees on the edge of the town’s limits, and I had an idea. I glanced at my scythe. I would harvest food for the villagers. Maybe serving them will help to wash away these feelings of guilt.

But first, I would need to abandon my past. I walked back up the hill and buried my weapons in my shroud, the last pieces of the Orokin that I would touch. Despite one of my pistols being destroyed and only having a few clips of ammunition, I couldn’t bring myself to throw anything away.

I looked up at the sky, a brilliant blue color. I listened to the world, the wind in the trees, small animals scurrying around. After the horrors of war, I felt at peace, despite losing my partner.

~

Many more years have come and gone since the Grineer attack. I finally relaxed, content to think of it as a fluke event. I haven’t buried my weapons again, and even stranger, I now have a small hut on the outskirts of the village. It’s a tiny affair, just enough for me to sleep plus a little bit of storage space for seeds and saplings, but I feel welcomed. The ones that were children at the time I saved them now tell the story to their own children, which has led to awed gazes whenever I pass by them. The innocence of the young is fascinating. 

My shades stay in the forest while I sleep in the village. I have a couple that have stayed for a long time, both men just on the far end of middle age. They relish the ability to continue giving to their wives and children, even though the receivers may not know who provided. I trust them to look over the other souls, though I can tell that they are getting tired. I’ve never explored just how long a soul can remain here, but perhaps I shouldn’t test it. This needs to be their last year.

I prepared for the ceremony, and we held it at the winter solstice. The small crew that I had gathered all decided to leave at the same time, which made me a little sad, but I couldn’t begrudge them their wish.

Just like every time before, as the sun just started dipping below the horizon, I opened the way. One by one they disappeared, thanking me as they went down the peaceful road.

While the last one departed, I felt a strange tickle at the edge of my consciousness. I ignored it at first, but after the ceremony was done, the tickle became a roar. Power flooded my limbs, along with a rush of emotions and confused thoughts. 

I realized what was happening.

A Tenno was uniting with me again!

They were confused at first, curious as to why they could feel my mind and see from my eyes. I thought it odd, did this one not remember? I could tell that they were not my partner, which made me sad, but there was nothing I could do about that.

I told the child about what they were, and how they could channel power through me. I told them that there were others out there, somewhere just like them, sleeping, perhaps to wake up sometime soon, perhaps far in the future. I did not, however, tell the child about the past. There are some things that should be left forgotten, especially if it leads to the gift of a guilt-free life.

She could not even remember her name, which caused her some distress. She walked with me in my mind through the winter, and I could tell how the darkness made her depressed on top of that. 

When the thaw came, however, she changed just as the landscape did. The awe and wonder at seeing a field of flowers, green grass, and the numerous baby animals changed her dramatically.

“You almost shine like the world around us when you’re happy,” I told her. “Why don’t you take on the name Eden?”

She loved the idea.

The year flew by, and Eden embraced every minute of it. She laughed along with the playing children, and admired the work it took to gather all the fruit each season. She learned how to read the trees to see if they needed more water or fertilizer, and I taught her the paths of the stars above us. By the next winter, she had learned nearly all I could teach her.

But throughout the year, something was changing. Once in a while, very rarely, I could see the barest hint of a ghost in my peripheral vision. It might have been just a trick of the light at first, but when the first snow fell, I was sure. I was seeing Eden’s face.

This alarmed me. I had never seen the face of a Tenno that occupied me, even that of my partner, who I worked with for years. To be seeing her spirit meant something had to be wrong. Come to think of it, she hadn’t left my mind since I first encountered her, even for a moment. 

A chill washed over me as I saw her walk through the white powder, leaving faint imprints of her bare feet. She had somehow died, and I was the only one keeping her soul here. 

At first, I tried to hide this from her. But as her form became more like one of the shades she saw me summon, she put two and two together.

“Hey, Harvest?” she asked me one day. “Did I... die?”

I stared at her for a long time before answering. “I think so.”

Surprisingly, she did not cry. She simply sighed and sat down on a rock. “I am still one of those Tenno you were telling me about, though, right?”

“Of course.”

She thought for a while. “Is it possible… is there an empty warframe that I could maybe use as my body? I know it’s a long shot, but a soul can’t stay forever if it doesn’t have a body, right?”

“I actually do have frames. They were my friends, once upon a time, but now they lie empty. If you like, I can show you.” She nodded. I could tell that she was nervous, but I had some hope it would work.   
  


We made the trek the next day. I dug through the undergrowth until I found the cryopods I had left so long ago, and showed her. 

“Here are my five friends that I saved, choose whichever you like. They’ve slept for so long waiting for a Tenno to wake them again.”

“Five? I only feel four.” I was alarmed, but I looked and saw that she was right. Atlas had a peculiar looking set of flowers growing from his body, so I gathered he was truly dead. A tiny thread in me broke, but the span of centuries made the pain dull.

Eden ended up choosing nyx. I had never tried putting a soul back into a body, but surprisingly it wasn’t hard. I suppose some of that was due to her being a Tenno.

The two of us walked back, now with a physical form for her. The villagers greeted her with open arms as they did with me so long ago.

Over the years, she learned to use nyx’s powers to call birds down from the sky to entertain the children. She would have them snatch away a child’s hat, flying just out of reach, causing all the others to laugh uproariously. After having their fun, she allowed the kids to very carefully pet the creature before setting it free. 

One of the older people in the village sat and watched the show one day. After the bird left, they walked up to us. “It’s so lovely to have you both here. You bring the joy of new life to us miss Spring, and you always bring us incredible fruits, mister Harvest.” I was shocked that they were so close to our names, after all, we never told them. “You bring us so much comfort in knowing you are here to protect us. You give us life, in so many ways, though time doesn’t seem to touch you.”

Occasionally, Eden would leave the frame to walk as a spirit. As even more centuries passed, I noticed her change. Despite not having a true body, her soul matured and solidified into a beautiful woman. When she walked in that form, she could almost pass as a living person, except for the limited shadow she cast. Her long hair would flutter in the breeze, and while she “wore” a very plain dress, it accentuated her form perfectly. She never showed herself with shoes, electing to walk with bare feet. She says it feels nice, but I don’t know how things work if you’re a ghost. Sometimes her hair would change colors, though, and her facial features would gradually drift a bit over time to fit her idea of beauty, but I could always recognize her by the way she moved. 

The second time the village was invaded, we were ready. We were a perfect fighting team, since she puppeted the living while I controlled the dead. Despite our limited weaponry, the village suffered no casualties, and we even made it off with only one bullet wound each.

One day, a few travellers came to our town. While this would normally be a relatively common thing, the messages they brought were significant. In a settlement near the coast called Cetus, Tenno were appearing.

Eden had studied the written language of the village, so she wrote them a note telling them of our intent. We had to go to Cetus to see if the rumor was true. Hopefully, we would return someday, but only time would tell.

Many of the villagers wept when we left. Seeing them like that, I vowed to come back, no matter what happened. I had to leave my beloved trees for the first time, but I have faith in the villagers. A few of them volunteered to care for the grove, and while they are as fresh as the new grass in comparison with my experience, I’ll have to let them do their best.

When we arrived, we were greeted by a noble Excalibur prime. He spoke to us in the way only the Tenno and warframes can. “Welcome to Cetus. Are you newly awoken as well?”

Eden and I laughed. “Oh, you sweet child,” I said.

He stiffened and was about to retort, but I cut him off.

“I have been waiting for the return of the Tenno since the Old War.”


End file.
